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Gwyn stretched out on her stomach on a plush rug on the floor of the House of Wind’s private library, a massive tome open in front of her. Nearby, Nyx and Rhodes were playing with a set of wooden blocks, six-year-old Nyx trying to make more complicated towers while three-year-old Rhodes seemed torn between attempting sturdy buildings and knocking down Nyx’s creations. Against Gwyn’s side, Seryn sat with her own book, a big colorful one with pages that were spelled to be indestructible. Two-year-olds were not exactly known to be careful with paper.
Content, Gwyn turned the page of her borrowed book, looking at the detailed illustrations of a three-clawed giant mole. Her current special research interest besides trying to figure out Seryn’s light-based powers was the similarities and differences between animal species found in Prythian and on the continent. Like this breed of giant mole, it was found in Winter Court and Rask but nowhere else.
And reading about giant moles was so much better than attending a budget meeting at the River House with everyone else.
Unbeknown to Rhys as far as anyone could tell, the adults in the Inner Circle, minus Amren, had started playing a game during the last few years. Everyone knew that certain impromptu meetings were not going to be interesting to certain people. These meetings that Rhysand would hold when he was in a particular meetings-are-my-favorite mood usually revolved around budgets, business updates, infrastructure, and trade. They weren’t meetings that everyone needed to attend, but Rhysand liked getting their opinions. Or so he said. Gwyn sometimes suspected that he liked bouncing his own ideas off of people. She loved her brother-in-law and she was fine with most meetings, but…random budget meetings were the bane of her existence.
The game was unnamed as of yet, but the general idea was to volunteer to watch the children first in an organic way so you could get out of a boring three to five hour long meeting. Of course, other meetings were treated with much more care and attention, but sitting through a four hour discussion about road upkeep in the Night Court lands was only really interesting to Rhysand and perhaps Amren.
Azriel and Gwyn had been over at the River House for lunch when Rhys had mentioned oh so casually that he planned to have everyone meet to discuss repairs for the southernmost shipping port and the budget of the project. Feyre had jumped in to say that she had an art gallery exhibit she had to attend and she could take the children with her, but Rhys had said he would work around her visit so she didn’t have to miss the meeting, of course. Her opinion was invaluable, as he put it. That put Feyre out of the competition. She rarely won anyways.
Azriel and Gwyn had glanced at each other, challenge flaring up between them. Both of them had started talking, but Gwyn had lovingly grabbed Azriel’s thigh so just under the table to distract him, grinned, and said that she needed to work on a pressing research project and would be happy to watch the children. She circumvented any future attempts from Cassian to wriggle out of the meeting by saying that she was sure that they wouldn’t mind if she took all three younglings to the House of Wind, where it was extremely secure. Nesta was gone for the day anyways, supervising a Valkyrie training session in the foothills. Rhys, who was interested in her research project because he also thought the continental animal issue was intriguing, thought that was a fine idea.
Sure, she had to deal with jealous frowns from Azriel and Feyre and, there was growling from Cassian who hadn’t had a chance since he hadn't even been there, but she had won. Worth it.
A sizable entourage of Azriel’s shadows had escaped with her, staying behind as he reluctantly went to the meeting, promising to get even later. Mhmm, she looked forward to it. She didn’t blame the shadows, there wasn’t much for them to do at a budget meeting. Most had settled around her and Seryn while a few twirled around the boys.
Nyx waved a hand through a rushing one that came too close to his tower. There was already one shadow there. The shadow sitting on Seryn’s head had decided to look like a miniature cat. Its tiny tail lashed once before it curled up on the toddler’s head. Near the boys, a shadow shaped like a bear wandered by Rhodes’ building while a dragon gave a silent roar from the top of Nyx’s tower.
Gwyn made it through half a page before movement made her lift her head. Rhodes was reaching for Nyx’s spindly tower, his smile touched with wickedness, fully intent on bringing it down. That was the Cassian in him. Nyx hadn’t noticed yet, his attention fully on choosing his next block. The little dragon on the tower beat its wings in Nyx’s direction.
Lifting a hand, Gwyn pulled strands of cool moonlight light from within herself and sent them out to reinforce the tower. It glowed a light silvery blue as wisps of light coalesced around it. Rhodes still tried to knock it down, but the reinforcement kept it intact.
“Rhodes, come on, don’t,” Gwyn said, “It’s not very nice.”
Realizing he was caught, Rhodes immediately put his hands behind his back and ducked his head. His shaggy dark brown hair didn’t cover his quick little scowl at being thwarted.
Nyx, now figuring out how close his tower had come to ruin, whirled toward Rhodes. “You play with your own blocks, Rhodes. Quit it.” He bared his teeth, shapeshifting them into fangs. That little trick never failed to scare Rhodes.
Backpedaling, Rhodes bumped into his own set of blocks, which collapsed and knocked into a table. A small golden sphere bounced off its holder, rolled, and then hit to floor, where it popped open. Lively music spilled out, filled with drums and pipes and stringed instruments that Gwyn recognized as Summer-made. Rhodes ran over to Gwyn and threw himself down beside her, rooting partially under her arm, wings scrunched tight to his back.
Nyx grinned at Gwyn, still wearing the fangs. “I didn’t do it.”
“Uh-huh, those fangs say otherwise. Normal teeth, trouble,” Gwyn said to Nyx over the vibrant music. She shifted, lifting Rhodes onto her lap and snuggling him. “It’s just Nyx, little bear.”
Rhodes hid his face against his shoulder. “And teeth, big teeth, I don’t like those.”
Seryn pushed her book away and frowned. “Bad Nyx.”
Nyx crossed his arms and pouted as his fangs went away. “He was gonna mess up my stuff, that’s bad. Be quiet, Seryn.”
Seryn bared her teeth and growled, looking like an adorable but pissed little river otter with wings. Biting was their current problem with her. Nesta and Feyre and other friends of hers had told her that two was a hard year, and she knew it from watching Rhodes and Nyx grow up. Seryn didn’t throw that many temper tantrums besides holding her breath, which was terrifying in itself. But biting, yes, that was an issue.
Gwyn reached out, keeping one arm looped around Rhodes, and tugged on the back of Seryn’s shirt below her wings gently. “Don’t bite.”
Nyx smirked. “Yeah, don’t bite.”
“Nyx, you aren’t helping,” Gwyn said in a sing-song voice.
“No helpin’,” Seryn said, mimicking the sing-song tone. “Nyx not helping.”
Gwyn smiled. She realized that there was an opportunity here. “Not helping,” she echoed, letting her voice flow with the music.
Nyx frowned a little, his cheeks turning red. “It’s my tower,” he said petulantly.
Gwyn hummed along as the song shifted into a sea shanty that she knew from spending time with Tarquin’s mate Ria. Rhodes lifted his head. Seryn twisted, her frown replaced by interest. Long ago, in Sangravah, Gwyn had learned that confrontations between children were easy to end or keep from even beginning if you were able to distract them in time. It held true all these years later.
The drumbeat was for lifting the sails, deep and powerful, and she hugged Rhodes as she stood. She sang out as she sat him on his feet and took Nyx by the hands.
“And up and up and up sails go, the morning sun rises, and the tides they flow. Where the sails sail, hopefully not the deep below, only the winds far flung, only they know.”
Twirling the grumpy six-year-old, she danced him around the room until he started grinning. Swirls of midnight joined them as Nyx tapped into his powers. Starlight flickered as Seryn got up as well, wings rising, Azriel’s shadows curling around her. The song sped up and so did Gwyn and Nyx. Rhodes scrambled to his feet and hurried over, pulling Seryn by the hand. Gwyn and Nyx let go of each other to allow them in the ring, slowing to allow for shorter legs.
For a moment, Gwyn remembered other faces, Catrin’s and Elini’s and other children from Sangravah, dancing on summer days, in fields or by the sea. There was a pang of hurt that came along with that memory but also an old joy. Gwyn let the feelings run through her. She melded her memories together, these children in the House of Wind, so high above the bustling city, and those smiling faces in the sunshine of a remote temple. When they wound up going too fast and tripping over their feet, Gwyn gathered the memories and her daughter and nephews to her, laughing with them as the music continued on, spilling out the windows and into the sky.